


the ties that bind us, the lines that divide us

by naevia_nadia



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: And understanding Hux, And we give him friends and a personality, Classism, Emphasis on Original Characters, First Order Backstory, First Order Culture, Fluff, Gen, Good luck Kylo, Humor, Hux's fan club of Academy cadets, In this house we cherish Dopheld Mitaka, In which we the fandom are the Academy cadets, Kylo Ren's adventures in understanding Imperials, Kylux already together, M/M, Mitaka Backstory, Sexism, Takes place two years before TFA, elitism, mitaka pov, references to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 08:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11287308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naevia_nadia/pseuds/naevia_nadia
Summary: Two years before the events of The Force Awakens, before the great conflict between dark and light, the First Order and the Resistance, good and evil, we had the greatest conflict of all: the one that exists between sibling and sister.  Specifically, one sister's journey to achieve that treasured artifact: a signed holo of the one, the only, the man, the myth, the legend: General Hux.Join us as that sister jumpstarts a story that encompasses more than just one signature: a story with caf and tea, friends and foes, Imperials and not and the reveal of the greatest power of them all.This is the story of what happens when General Hux goes off ship.  And when his lieutenants (and his knight) are left to play.Or to quote Lieutenant Mitaka, our POV through this story: "Fucking hell."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOW it has been a long time since I've had to fill out one of these things! Actually, it's been since...January since I last posted a fic! 
> 
> Oops!
> 
> But I'm happy to say that I survived my spring semester at college, somehow, and I'm back to writing! Hopefully I can write not just in the summer, but in the school year too. But nevertheless, I'm going to try and cram as much fic in this summer as possible. 
> 
> Burnout? Never heard of it. 
> 
> (Let's hope that stays true)
> 
> Anyway!! I remember teasing this fic back in February, talking about it with friends in March and April and now, I finally wrote in the month of June! So it only took me like five months; not too bad I think.
> 
> This fic is in Mitaka POV because after my first shitposting fic with this guy, I really got interested in developing the characters of the random officers aboard the Finalizer. You see them in the movie, but you'll never learn about them like you would Kylo Ren or Hux (in some aspects). And I've always been interested in the motivations behind First Order characters and their histories and backstories. 
> 
> This fic is the tip of the iceberg for the characterization I have of Mitaka and his family, along with Hux, Kylo Ren, other First Order families and the First Order itself. This is actually the first fic in a series of interconnected fics, starting from two years before the events of TFA to right afterwards. That's a lot of fic potential! I'm excited to tackle this sort of 'anthology' project (if I can call it that). 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic! It has its serious parts, but is mostly a lot of fluff and humor. :D

\--

Mitaka looks at himself in the mirror and immediately wants to go back to bed and die. 

“Looking hot, Mitaka, damn,” Mirava mutters as she walks into the fresher. She bumps him to the side so she gets half the counter. 

“Shut up, you look like you died last night,” Mitaka says as he moves closer to the wall. 

Mirava looks at herself in the mirror, in all her smeared smoky eye, greasy hair glory, and snorts in agreement. “Kind of wish I did honestly.”

What did happen last night? 

To be honest, the question would be: what didn’t. He’d rather not elaborate. 

Mitaka remembers how the night started pretty well: Carmen had commed all the lieutenants on their group message, bemoaning the fact that Hux had chosen her to go off ship with him for an entire week as he met with High Command again. What was strange was that Carmen was the only one chosen; usually, Hux spares the lieutenants any one-on-one interaction with him and takes two or even three at a time, along with other officers and some stormtroopers.

Mitaka didn’t tell her the truth, why Hux only took her with him. 

The truth is that Mitaka was also supposed to go off planet. He had cleared his entire schedule so that Hux could stealthily get him off the _Finalizer_ , along with Carmen. 

However, after the events that transpired last month, when Mitaka almost died via accidental voyeurism, Hux has kept not just a bit of distance but an entire parsec of distance away from Mitaka. He hasn’t even met with him over the _Finalizer’s_ new weapons system upgrade she’s getting this week, something Mitaka is specifically in charge of.

Rather than acknowledging the problem, which was that Hux thought Mitaka was crushing hard, Hux instead did what he did best: he avoided the problem. Which was his only response to anything, Mitaka had decided, after nearly a year of tracking down Hux on the _Finalizer_ or off planet because Hux wanted to avoid whatever Mitaka was going to make him do. 

Still, Mitaka’s also pulling a Hux and avoiding him any chance he gets, so he’s glad that he isn’t being forced off ship to deal with Hux and High Command. It also means he gets to program the _Finalizer’s_ new weapons network update himself.

“Do you have any dry shampoo?” 

Mitaka looks away from the mirror, where he had been looking at a suspicious redness on his face that better fucking not be acne. Shit, he’s almost twenty-one, and it’s like he’s still in the Academy. “Yeah, it’s in the top drawer,” he says, already back to staring at himself in the mirror.

Mirava opens the top drawer and immediately curses. “Fucking hell, Mitaka, how do you find anything in here?”

Mitaka snorts in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be used to it, since you roomed with me at the Academy and constantly stole my shit?”

Mirava scowls at him, though the effect is ruined by her smoky eye. “Don’t make me kick your fucking arse at eight in the morning,” she growls.

Mitaka glances down at her and raises an eyebrow. Mirava sees what he’s about to do and says, “Don’t you fucking do it.” 

But she’s too slow and in the most drawn out, over emphasized, calling upon Tarkin and every one of the Empire’s children, Mitaka says, “ _Arrrrrrrse_ ”. 

There’s silence for a few seconds before Mirava snorts, tries to stop herself with a hand over her mouth and fails as she cackles. Mitaka finds himself laughing too. 

“Fucking hell, Mika, you’ve gotten better at that.”

“Haven’t I always been good at accents?” Mitaka says, now looking at his own wild hair situation. Thank the stars the uniform includes a hat. 

“Oh, yes,” Mirava says, still snickering. “But it honestly wasn’t great until that boy Mullen was in our class and wouldn’t stop spouting off in that fucking accent about how his uncle was a Tarkin and how incredible it was to be related to such a powerful grand moff.” 

“And you were like ‘listen I know we all want to fuck Tarkin, but can you be a bit more discreet about it’?” 

Mirava tilts her head back and laughs. Then, still smiling, she reaches for the dry shampoo bottle, tilts her head down and sprays her roots until they’re almost white. Mitaka is suddenly reminded of finals week at the Academy, when he and Mirava would do this in the library fresher in the morning before their exam because they had slept there rather than return to their dorms. The memory spreads warmly down his chest. 

Mirava runs her fingers through her hair until the shampoo’s spread through. “Hmm, do you think I was a bit mean to him?”

Mitaka shrugs. “Listen, he called me a mutt, so he got what was coming. Also, he was rude to Hali, do you remember? She failed that test, and he wouldn’t stop going on and on about how well he did? Right in front of her as she was crying?”

“Listen, fuck Mullen, I hope wherever he is that he’s forced to clean nerf shit off an admiral’s boots.”

Last Mitaka had heard, Mullen was a lieutenant commander under Vice Admiral Ketwa, but he didn’t want to say anything because he knew it would only piss Mirava off. 

Just then, Mitaka’s comm, thankfully left charging last night in its port on the fresher counter, sounds off in a tone Mitaka knows well. 

Mirava recognizes it too. “Hey, isn’t that your sister?” she asks, as she rummages through more drawers. 

Mitaka rolls his eyes. “Yeah, she keeps pestering me about Hux. Literally don’t know why she and her little friends are so obsessed with him.”

“It’s because all the other generals are like eighty, and Hux is young and, to her knowledge, single.”

Mitaka had to tell Mirava what he witnessed that month ago, when he walked into Hux’s office during his lunch break under the guide of the _Finalizer’s_ chief engineer and witnessed something he never expected. General Hux and Kylo Ren. Mirava hadn’t believed him at first; she, like everyone else on the ship, thought that they only tolerated each other, maybe respected each other too, but would never speak of it. After Mitaka told her what happened, after he picked himself up from the hallway and found her, she believed him. 

But Mitaka won’t tell anyone else. The rumors between him and Hux are dying down anyway; almost no one says anything to him about it anymore. 

It’s not like anyone would believe him anyway. And Mitaka has no idea how Kylo Ren would react. He does know how Hux would react, but not Ren. He’s the unknown. 

Mitaka won’t risk it. 

Which is why he can’t dissuade his sister from fawning over Hux. Even if he were married, Mitaka knows his following at the Academy wouldn’t stop. They were too persistent. Mitaka only hoped that his sister Dahlia might have been spared, if only by the stories he tells of finding Hux asleep in engineering more than once or the time he had to kick him to bring his attention back to a horrifyingly boring meeting. 

A week ago, while Mitaka was on bridge duty, Dahlia had commed him. Right away, Mitaka knew it was trouble:

_Dearest eldest sibling,_

_This is your sister Dahlia, though you might have forgotten since you haven’t commed or holo-chatted with me in over a month (seriously Doe? I know the Finalizer hasn’t done anything interesting besides ferry missions and supply drops for the past month!)_

_Anyway, the Academy is still hell, though it’s nice not to be a first-year plebe anymore. It’s kind of funny now seeing the plebes run around and be screamed at by Drill Instructor Hawkins. I sometimes miss his spittle flying towards my face as he yelled at me. Reminds me of the good old days when I can hear him screech outside my calculus class._

_But though it’s lovely to talk about Hawkins’ spittle, that’s not why I’m comming you. I actually have a favor to ask, which you’ve noticed I haven’t done for an entire month (and asking you for help on my programming homework doesn’t count)._

_I told Tracy that I could get a signed copy of General Hux’s most recent photo (the shoot that included all of High Command, I know you saw it), but I was also really sleep deprived when she asked so I agreed to some pretty high demands, but before I could get Iris to not tell anyone, she told our entire friend group AND some of the guys I know (and some of them are really cute and potential boyfriend material) and it’d be really, really shitty for me to go back on my promise because I TOLD them I could get them all signed copies._

_So, what I’m asking is: can you get me twenty signed copies of that General Hux photoshoot?_

_Dahlia Mitaka_

Mitaka’s reply had been short, but poignant. 

_No._

And that was the end of that. 

Or so Mitaka thought. 

Now, as he looks at his comm flashing Dahlia’s name, Mitaka worries. 

He opens his comm and reads what she sent him this morning.

_Think of it as my initiation present! I know you’re looking forward to initiating me and wouldn’t this be such a nice thing for the eldest sibling to do for their little sister? I bet Aunt Niabi did stuff like this for Mama. Wouldn’t you want to continue the family tradition? <3_

_Lots of love,_

_Lia_

“Fucking hell,” Mitaka says. It’s all he can say at first. “She’s guilt tripping me.” 

Dahlia is. She never uses that nickname in comm messages anymore unless she really wants something. It makes Mitaka melt whenever she does so. 

“How?” Mirava says around a mouthful of toothpaste. She spits it out into the sink and reaches for his comm. “Here, let me see.”

After she reads it, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to do it.”

“The last time I refused Dahlia when she guilt-tripped me, she moved on to threatening me. I don’t want to deal with that fallout again.”

Mirava snorts. “Wow. All right.”

“What?”

She shrugs. “Nothing.” Then, she says. “How’re you going to get those autographs then? You just shook off that rumor a week ago. You really want people going around again saying you’re pining after Hux?”

Mitaka hadn’t thought of that. He shrugs. “I’ll figure something out. If worse comes to worst, I can just forge it.”

“Forge it? For something Dahlia’s going to look at? Dahlia, who’s obsessed with Hux and everything about him? Good luck making that authentic, Mika.”

“With the number of times I’ve almost resorted to forging his signature, I think I could do it.” Mitaka finishes with his hair and turns to Mirava. “Anyway, do you want to get caf this morning? I think our ration cards got updated this week.”

Mirava nods. “Yeah, that sounds wonderful, especially since we both have alpha to get through. Do my hair first and then we’ll go.” 

\--

After they finished getting ready, with Mirava borrowing a spare uniform since she didn’t want to make the trek back to her quarters, and Mitaka spending half that time wondering how his boots got so badly scuffed the night before, they finally make their way to one of the caf shops aboard the _Finalizer_. Apparently, it was a remnant of the Empire, to have shops aboard Star Destroyers to cater to the officer and stormtrooper corps. The First Order had taken much from the Empire, but this was Mitaka’s favorite. 

Even if they did have to implement ration cards while the Empire did not. Sugar was deemed a non-necessity, which Mitaka can understand yet still dislike. 

Today, as exhaustion weighs heavy on his limbs, would be a good use of his ration card. Judging by the near murderous expression on Mirava’s face at the length of the line, she’s feeling the same way. 

“How long does it take to order caf?” Mirava mutters. The line, full of stormtroopers and officers alike, stretches into near infinity.

Mitaka grunts in response. The dim light from the caf shop is giving him a headache.

Mitaka is just resisting the urge to rest his head onto Mirava’s shoulder when he hears a familiar voice speak behind him. It makes his shoulders tense and his mind instantly alert.

“How is the line this long already? Isn’t there a policy that lets us jump it?” 

“No, Hux got rid of that last month. Thought it took too much effort to rearrange the line all the time.”

“He shouldn’t be making these decisions,” says a voice Mitaka dreads hearing this early in the morning. It’s snide and perfectly Coruscanti. Mirava tenses next to him. “He’s not one of us, the ones waiting in the lines. We are.”

“Like Hux would want to be one of them,” Mirava mutters harshly. 

Mitaka shushes her quietly and glances at the group of people behind them from the corner of his eye. Of what he can see, it doesn’t look good. 

“High Command’s really being thrown to the dogs,” continues Lieutenant Rhet. Her lip curls barely, just enough to be noticeable, but not enough to compromise her serene expression. “Of course, I wouldn’t be insubordinate about it. But if I were to give my opinion—”

“Which no one _fucking_ asked for,” Mirava mutters again. Mitaka grabs her hand and squeezes it. Hard. Others are turning around now, wondering who is making these outrageous claims and why they haven’t been reconditioned. 

There’s still enough noise in the caf shop that Mirava’s mutters to Mitaka couldn’t be heard by Lieutenant Rhet and her ‘friends’. But that could change quickly, especially as officers and stormtroopers alike quiet to see if there would be some early morning entertainment before their shifts. 

“She’s outright insulting him, Mitaka,” Mirava hisses. At the use of his complete last name, Mitaka knows she’s both furious and oh so serious. “I don’t care if we’re equal rank. I don’t have to listen to this bantha shit.” 

“Nari…” Mitaka gets out before he’s quieted by a sharp glare. 

Lieutenant Rhet keeps going, even as Mirava seethes. Mitaka can see other uncomfortable faces in the crowd, even some who are angered, but he knows no one will step in to stop Rhet. Her last name is known too well in the First Order. Her father is an Admiral, served in the Empire. Who would go against his daughter?

“If she doesn’t shut her fucking mouth, Mitaka, I’ll shut it for her.”

There’s a tight fist gripping Mitaka’s heart, almost as tight as the hold Mirava has on his hand. He glances behind him, looks for some solution to his problem. 

“How dare she talk about Hux like that, after all he’s done for us.” Mirava’s voice is getting louder. Some of Rhet’s group on the outskirts are starting to hear her. Their lips curl, not like Rhet’s but in a full snarl that reminds Mitaka of a pack of feral dogs he and Mirava saw in their youth, preparing to rip a rabbit apart. 

Then, just as Mitaka is fixing to let go of Mirava’s hand and deal with whatever Rhet’s dogs might throw at him, right as his free hand is feeling around his thigh to see if he thought to hide a knife there this morning, he meets the dark gaze of someone he both knows and wants to get to know. It makes his heart, already so fast from the confrontation ahead, flutter faster, though for entirely different reasons. 

Her name is Cassini Parnew. Like Mitaka and Mirava, she’s a personal lieutenant to Hux. She is also the daughter of the most notable Imperials in the First Order, barring Rae Sloane and her associates. They held important leadership positions in the days of the Empire, but that’s not what they’re remembered for. Her father, yes, but he is known more for his strict anti-non-Imperial sentiments, made even more prominent by his position in High Command. 

No, it’s her mother that makes Mitaka wary to talk to her daughter in a non-professional setting. Her mother hates non-Imperials like her father, but holds no position in High Command. Actually, she holds no military position at all; she never has. Her position has always been a cultural one. As the prima ballerina of the Empire’s most prestigious ballet company, she cultivated culture in the Empire. According to what Mitaka has researched, as he has read a lot of this family, she was significant enough to meet with Tarkin, Vader and even the Emperor himself. 

And Mitaka knows that her reach has extended to the First Order, no matter how much Rae Sloane tried to stop her. With the Imperials ravaged by the Rebels and most choosing to be absorbed by the New Republic, the First Order needed new, non-Imperial blood. There were some families that couldn’t tolerate that. The Parnews were one of those. 

Mitaka likes her.

And as Mitaka looks into her brown eyes, imploring for her to get Rhet to stop before Mirava snaps and goes for Rhet’s throat, she stares equally back.

Then, barely even noticeable, she nods. She breaks eye contact and says, incredibly quietly, “Rhet, did you hear about the Taryn family? Heard the brother went rogue. Rumor has it he’s thinking of joining the Imperial Resistance.”

Rhet stops in her tracks. She turns to Cassini. There’s a fire burning in her eyes that makes Mitaka very uncomfortable. 

“Really, Parnew? How’d you hear of this? My older brother usually tells me _everything_.”

The conversation turns to talks of that family; Mitaka doesn’t know who the hell they are and doesn’t fucking care. He leans into Mirava’s shoulder as her breaths calm. He hasn’t let go of her hand and won’t until they get their caf and head to alpha shift. 

\--

The best thing about his position in the First Order, Mitaka thinks, is that his station on the bridge is the farthest away from anyone else’s. 

Which is nice because it means he’s far away from the piercing gaze of Captain Arcelia, who’s finally taking advantage of being captain again now that Hux is gone. She never was happy that she was given the flagship, then immediately shoved aside for an Army General to take her place. It was Snoke’s orders, which was why the _Finalizer_ ended up with an Army man in a Navy woman’s position. And why that decision was never questioned. 

What’s terrible is that Mitaka must stand for his entire shift, which is hell on his legs, already sore from whatever the hell he did to them last night, but one can only ask for so much in the First Order. A chair is not one of those things. 

For now, Mitaka turns his attention to his duties. First, he checks the rest of his comm messages. He pointedly ignores Dahlia’s message and scrolls down. There, he sees the confirmation that Hux left the _Finalizer_ on one of the _Upsilon_ shuttles with no trouble. Carmen accompanied him, but that wasn’t listed on the flight manuscript; it never is, not when Mitaka accompanies Hux or when Mirava does or any of the other lieutenants. There’s secrecy to their roles as Hux’s lieutenants, even though it’s lax when High Command isn’t around. 

Mitaka will enjoy the week now that Hux is gone. He won’t have to strategically avoid the upper command’s quarters at certain hours or avoid the officers’ lounge anymore. Now, he can finally relax in there like he’s supposed to as a commissioned officer and not drink from his illegal stash in his quarters. 

The next couple of messages are random spam that every person on the _Finalizer_ gets: viruses disguised as memos that somehow misspell the name “Hux” and the sexy officer asking for some love on Deck 69.

But then, towards the bottom of the list, with a time stamp indicating that it was sent right as Mitaka was waiting in line at the caf shop, is a message sent from a comm address Mitaka doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t think it’s a virus either, so he opens it. 

What he reads petrifies him. His stomach immediately plummets. 

_Hux’s office. 1000. Today._

_KR_

There’s only one person on the _Finalizer_ that would both refer to Hux without the General preceding and with the initials KR: no rank, no credentials, because he doesn’t need them.

So. It appears Mitaka hadn’t escaped death after all one month ago, when he witnessed Kylo Ren and General Hux fucking over Hux’s desk.

It was only postponed until Hux left, when Ren knew nothing would stop him. 

Almost by instinct, Mitaka sends a message to Mirava and turns to walk out the bridge. The Captain says nothing; she doesn’t even notice as Mirava, concerned, gets up from her station to follow Mitaka off the bridge. 

Once the bridge doors slide shut, Mirava takes Mitaka’s arm and pulls him to the side. He doesn’t say a word. Neither does Mirava, at first. Whatever conflict between them that existed in the caf shop is gone. 

“Hey,” Mirava says, in the same tone she uses when Mitaka closes up and she doesn’t know what to do. “What happened?”

Mitaka hands her his comm. She reads it. Her expression doesn’t change. 

“He doesn’t command you. You don’t have to do anything he says.”

“I know that.”

Then, there’s silence. Mitaka crosses his arms and scuffs his boot against the floor, watches as a scuff mark appears on the shiny surface. 

Mirava breaks the silence. “You’re going to go.” She poses this as a statement. She grabs his arm. “Listen, I’ll wait outside if that’ll help.”

“No, that’s all right.” Mitaka smiles at her, though it’s more likely a grimace. “I’m sure it’s fine, and I’m just overthinking it. He’s co-commander of the _Finalizer_ , too. And I’m the one who knows her best. He probably just has a question about her.” He thinks back to the short message. “And he probably has a tight schedule too. You know how the crew never sees him when he’s here, and Ren’s always off ship doing one thing or another.” 

“All right,” Mirava says, but she’s still wary. “I’ll get Taylor to cover your station until you get back.” 

“I might just meet you at lunch if that’s fine. I have to stop by engineering anyway to finalize the details for the new weapons software.” 

Mirava doesn’t exactly agree, but she lets him go anyway. And though the conversation may have helped briefly, Mitaka still feels a familiar anxiety crawling its way up from his stomach to his heart as he walks slowly to Hux’s office, trying to delay whatever it is he’s walking to: an ordinary briefing or his death.

It’s times like these that Mitaka wishes Hux’s office was closer to the bridge. 

Each step Mitaka takes echoes around him like a heartbeat. In fact, it might be his heartbeat itself that’s making all the noise.

Mitaka takes a breath, shakily exhales. 

He survived the Academy, top of his class. He survived basic training and being called every name under the stars by Drill Sergeant Hawkins. He survived a brief experience in field training before going back to the Academy. He survived the first time Hux genuinely yelled at him. He survived witnessing Kylo Ren’s face (and a bit more). He can survive this. 

Mitaka arrives at Hux’s door. Right as he steps in front of it, the doors slide open with a hiss. The lights don’t come on automatically. 

Rather than stand there and risk being discovered by a wayward officer or stormtrooper, Mitaka goes inside. Immediately the door slides shut. Mitaka is in complete darkness. 

Panic whispers at the edge of his mind, but Mitaka takes a deep breath and, his voice barely shaking, says, “Lights eighty percent.” 

The lights don’t come on. 

By reflex, Mitaka reaches inside his uniform sleeve for the small knife he usually keeps there. But in his haste to get ready, he forgot to grab it. Or any of his knives, once he runs a hand down his left thigh to see if he remembered that one. He did not.

Mitaka swallows. He reaches back to run a hand along the wall, to turn the lights on manually. Just as he reaches the panel that holds the manual controls, Mitaka hears an echoing thud from right in front of him, like a person kicking a desk, and he leaps against the wall with a swear. 

The lights come on then to reveal Kylo Ren, sitting perched atop Hux’s desk like a bird, his mask and his robes on, watching Mitaka cower against the wall with a tilted head. 

There’s silence, as Mitaka tries his damndest to control his fearful shaking, before Kylo Ren hunches forward and laughs through his mask. The effect the mask has on his voice makes the laugh rumble and creak like broken machinery. 

Just as suddenly as the laughter begins, it stops. Ren gets down from Hux’s desk with a graceful push from his feet and begins to pace. “Thank you for your promptness,” he says.

Mitaka has no idea what the fuck is going on. He’s still trying to melt into the wall. “Of course,” he basically whispers. “Sir,” he hurriedly adds on. Ren’s pacing is making him even more nervous, though Mitaka doesn’t understand how that’s possible. 

Ren is silent while he paces like a great cat. Mitaka tracks his every turn, every swish of fabric from his boots to his cowl to what he can see of his black hair coming out of his helmet. He keeps an extra close watch on Ren's lightsaber, his only visible weapon. Ren’s fists are clenched as he paces. Whatever he needs to say takes some kind of effort or composure. Mitaka makes no suggestion as to what it could be; Ren isn’t Hux. He doesn’t know if Ren would welcome the bouncing off of ideas that Hux enjoys so much. He stays silent.

Ren finally stops in the center of Hux’s office. He faces the wall when he says in a monotone, “You know Hux well.”

“I…think so?” Mitaka says, not knowing how to respond to that question. He knows Hux in different ways; he doesn’t know which way Ren is referring to. 

“You either do or you don’t. I’m going to assume that you do. Considering that you’ve worked under him for at least a year.” Ren tilts his helmet at the wall. “I have questions.”

“About Hux?”

“Yes, about Hux.”

Mitaka is quiet until Ren rolls a hand at him, obviously meaning for him to speak. The gesture pisses Mitaka off a bit, but that’s barely noticeable underneath the depths of his anxiety. “Why?” Mitaka asks before he can stop himself. 

Perhaps it was more noticeable after all. 

Ren finally turns away from the wall to give Mitaka his full attention. Mitaka almost steps back from the mask’s expressionless, but stops himself by looking at where Ren’s eyebrow has to be. At the Academy, it was his go-to response to Hawkins screaming at him. If he didn’t look Hawkins in the eye, he wouldn’t cry. No eye, no cry. That was the motto in boot camp. 

Mitaka stares at one of the silver details of the mask. “Sir,” he adds to be a bit less insubordinate. 

Ren is quiet as he stares down Mitaka. Mitaka doesn’t blink. 

Then, he answers. “Snoke ordered me to.” 

For some reason that answer relaxes Mitaka. 

“I don’t know what you need to know. What kind of information do you mean?”

“General information,” Ren says. “Hobbies. Past experiences. How he behaves normally aboard this ship and off.” 

Mitaka furrows his brow. “I can tell you some things, but not all that. Hux has many lieutenants. To get everything you need, you’d need to ask all of them. And there are a thousand aboard this ship.” 

Ren shakes his head. “No. There are only seven that are relevant. You are one of them.”

“Hux told you?” Mitaka asks before he can stop himself. 

“You forget I have the Force.” 

_Then why don’t you use it to figure out Hux’s ‘general information’?_ Mitaka thinks. He doesn’t dare say it.

Mitaka puts his hands behind his back and straightens up. He clears his throat and looks at where Ren’s eyes must be. He remembers they’re a deep brown color, from what he briefly saw that month ago. “Then let me ask all of us first, so I can get the details right.”

Ren shakes his head vigorously. “No. I must have everything by the end of this week.”

Mitaka frowns. “Sir, one of the lieutenants left with Hux. I can’t contact her from this far away.” 

“It must be this week, when Hux is gone. I’ll let you get the information you need from the remaining lieutenants,” Ren orders. He turns away, to face Hux’s desk. “And don’t call me sir. I’m not your general or your master. Call me Ren, if anything. That’s who I am. You’re dismissed.” Ren waves a hand and the door slides open with a hiss, startling Mitaka. “I’ll contact you when I require the information on Hux.” 

Mitaka nods, barely restraining the instinctual salute, and moves to leave. Right before he turns to walk out the door, he sees Ren staring at Hux’s chair. He’s tracing a finger atop Hux’s empty desk in a nonsensical pattern. It’s odd seeing him stand alone in Hux’s office without Hux also present. It’s also odd that Ren chose to meet here, rather than his own office, but perhaps he doesn’t have one. Maybe this is the only place he’s got. 

Mitaka’s bewildered, but grateful that Ren didn’t bring up the incident that happened last month nor did he try and kill him. 

It’s confusing though, why Ren ordered him to investigate Hux’s life when Ren is the one dating the general. 

All Mitaka knows is that this is something he needs to talk to Mirava about, before Dahlia’s comm message or his lack of relationship with Cassini. This takes precedence. 

\--


	2. Chapter 2

\--

“I’m glad you’re alive, Mika, but you need to slow the fuck down because I can barely understand what you’re saying.” 

Mitaka has just got to the part where Ren scared him by kicking Hux’s desk when he realizes he hasn’t taken a breath since he started talking. He takes a deep one before jumping right back into it, his voice as quick as it was before. 

The mess halls are busiest at this time of the day, since most everyone has the same lunch break. Thankfully, Mirava has saved both a plate and a seat for Mitaka, so when he dashed in after he finished proofreading the last of the _Finalizer’s_ programming, it was to see a full plate of his favorite foods and his best friend.

Mirava is a wonder. Mitaka needs to tell her that more often. 

“Let me get this straight,” Mirava says. “He ordered you to gather information on Hux, what, because the Supreme Leader needs it? Did he say why?”

Mitaka shakes his head. “No. But I thought it had to be a High Command thing. Or a Supreme Leader thing. Doesn’t concern us plebes down below.” He picks up his knife, immediately starts twirling it. The officers sitting near them scoot farther away. 

Mirava furrows her eyebrows and moves an unknown spherical vegetable across her plate with a fork. Mitaka stares at it. “Doesn’t make sense though. You’d think Hux would be vetted by the Supreme Leader already.” She purses her lips at her plate. Mitaka watches it roll around the plate, fixated. He thinks the combination of caf on an empty stomach and an adrenaline rush are to blame. If anything, they’re to blame for his rapid speech earlier. 

Behind Mitaka, there’s a group of stormtroopers laughing about something. Mitaka is about to turn around to check it out when Mirava says suddenly, “The time limit.” 

Mitaka tilts his head at her. The knife stops twirling. Behind him, he hears the shatter of a plate and loud swearing. 

Mirava’s onto something; he can tell. Her intuition has always been better than his. 

Mirava nods her head. “Yeah.” She looks up at Mitaka. There’s something behind her dark eyes that remind Mitaka of late-night studying or gossiping at the Academy. She treated both with the same regard. “You said Ren asked for the information by the end of this week?” 

“Yeah. Specifically, before Hux gets back.” 

“Before Hux gets back,” Mirava repeats. “Before…” 

Then, her eyes flash and she stares Mitaka down. “I need your datapad.”

“Why?” Mitaka asks, even as he reaches into his uniform top for it. 

“It’s just a hunch, but from what you’ve told me, it might be right.” 

Mitaka got nothing from that sentence. He passes her the pad anyway. She switches it on and goes to Mitaka’s calendar of all places, scrolling through the events scheduled there until she gets to a day Mitaka knows too. 

And then it all makes sense. 

Mirava smiles at the screen. The dimples at her cheeks stand out sharply when she lifts her head up to look at him. “Come with me,” she says. 

\--

Mitaka isn’t a coward, though some people aboard this ship might think otherwise. He just gets nervous and with right reason, too. He was anxious all throughout the Academy. Being yelled at makes him anxious, used to make him cry, but Hawkins yelled that out of him in basic training just fine. 

Kylo Ren makes him nervous, too, but for some reason, Mirava’s theory behind Ren’s behavior propels him from a state of nervousness to a state of exasperation that usually only comes about from dealing with Hux when he’s in one of his “I hate the bureaucracy” moods. 

This is why Mitaka is marching his way to Ren’s personal quarters. Unfortunately, it’s far from where Mitaka was initially, but a knowledge of the ship’s shortcuts and a fast pace in general means he gets there a lot faster. 

When he reaches Ren’s door, tucked deep into the hallways that contain the senior officers’ quarters, Mitaka doesn’t hesitate to bang on the door with a fist, just as he would with Hux. Any threat of death by the Force is far away. All that fuels him now is vexation. 

“Commander Ren!” Mitaka shouts, in a tone he knows is annoying from the times he’s used it around Hux, who always let him know it was annoying. “Commander Ren, I have an urgent message to deliver, sir!” He smacks the door a couple of times with an open palm. 

Mitaka knows he’s being obnoxious, especially to the senior officers who are likely sleeping right now, but that’s the point. Hux would wait him out until the end of time if he was alone. But add in the possibility of discovery, and Hux would cave immediately. Mitaka can only hope Ren shares this quality. 

Mitaka is just about to kick the door with his durasteel-toed boots when the door swooshes open to reveal Kylo Ren, helmet on but dressed in what Mitaka thinks is workout attire, leaning on his arm against the doorway and obviously glaring at him through the helmet. There's no lightsaber to be seen.

Before Ren can do something Force related to him, Mitaka ducks under his arm and into the dark expanse of his quarters. He immediately puts some distance between himself and Ren, an entire table actually, because Ren just turned around, and he looks pissed. 

“Why do you need to know so much about Hux?” Mitaka asks before the last of his courage leaves him. 

“I _told_ you,” Ren growls, stepping around the table. “My master _commands_ it.” 

Mitaka backs further up. “Then why do you need to know before Hux’s Life Day?” 

The question stuns Ren enough that Mitaka knows Mirava was right. 

“The Supreme Leader didn’t command you,” Mitaka says, very softly. The tone has shifted dramatically. He treads lightly around Ren, who appears emotionless to Mitaka thanks to his helmet. But his body language says something different; his fists are clenched, and he stands stiffly, more stiff than normal. 

This is a raw nerve that Mitaka doesn’t want to prod. Others might, but Mitaka won’t. 

But he doesn’t know how else to approach this confirmed information beyond letting Ren speak for himself. Hopefully he will do that because the silence is becoming oppressive, and Mitaka just realized he trapped himself in a room with a volatile Force user. 

His heart thumps rapidly against his chest. The collar of his uniform feels very tight. 

Instead of speaking, Ren lifts his hands to his helmet and, with a hiss, pulls it off. Mitaka is again confronted with Ren’s true face. He stares at one of his eyebrows.

Like Hux, Ren’s voice is strangely soft. “Yes, it’s about his Life Day,” he simply says. Ren moves to set his helmet down on the table standing between him and Mitaka. The helmet, though it must be heavy, barely thuds against the table as it’s set down. 

Mitaka takes a cautious step forward. He doesn’t ask why Ren didn’t just tell Mitaka the truth in the first place. It would be unwise to.

“The First Order doesn’t celebrate Life Days. Imperials don’t celebrate Life Days.”

“But I’m not an Imperial,” Ren says. There’s a pause before he adds. “And neither is Hux. Not all the way.” 

There were many graduates in Mitaka’s class who explicitly said they wouldn’t work under Hux due to his status. Mitaka thought it was a bunch of nerf shit, but he was in Hux’s place, too. Well, actually worse off. He had actually requested to work under Hux for this exact reason. He and Mirava both. 

Mitaka nods. He doesn’t know if Hux does celebrate his Life Day, since he’s only been working with him for under a year, but he might. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I had everything I needed,” says Ren in a rush. It’s like he’s forcing the words out of his mouth. He won’t look Mitaka in the eye either and instead looks at the wall behind him, like he’s forgotten he isn’t wearing a helmet anymore and that Mitaka can see his eyes. “But getting personal information from Hux is like pulling teeth. He wouldn’t budge, and I wanted it to be a surprise for when he returned. I know he hates going off ship. He hates meeting with High Command because they’re so officially Imperial. I wanted to make his return good.” A pause then. “It’ll be the first time he comes back, when I’m actually waiting for him and not just finding out he’s back.” 

The confession startles Mitaka into an open-mouthed expression, but he shakes his head and goes back to the normal expression he wears in the presence of superior officers. Upon seeing Ren’s oddly open face, Mitaka makes his decision. “I’ll follow your orders. I’ll ask around, not just the lieutenants, but others who know Hux well.” The chief engineer’s face flashes through Mitaka’s mind. “That way, you can have the most information possible.” 

Ren nods, now staring at the table. One hand rests upon it to prop him up. He’s obviously in deep thought. 

“I’ll take my leave then,” Mitaka says. He knows when he’s been dismissed. 

With the strange atmosphere still permeating in the room, Mitaka gives Ren a wide berth. Just as he’s about to open the sliding door to exit, Ren speaks again in that strange, soft tone. 

“I’ve heard there are places around the ship where people can meet and have conversation,” Ren says quietly. Mitaka is reminded of old holofilms from the Empire, even the pirated ones from the Republic, when officers and senators would debate politics in the forum. Ren sounds just like they did. “We’ll meet there when you have the information I requested.”

Mitaka nods and barely restrains clicking his heels together and saluting. Ren himself is facing away from him, like he was when Mitaka left Hux’s office just this morning, but his helmet stares back at him with its emotionless gaze. Mitaka barely contains a shiver, then leaves. The doors hiss shut behind him. 

\--

“So, wait, why the fuck are we doing this again?” Lieutenant Forstner asks around a mouthful of chips. Once she had entered Mitaka’s quarters, where most of the lieutenants sit cross-legged on the floor parsing through all their information on Hux and collecting it onto one document, she had stolen some food from his stash and then immediately let her blond hair down from its regulation bun. Mitaka hadn’t ever before seen someone so happy to let their hair down. 

“Because,” Mitaka says, looking down at the pad in his hands. “I was ordered to gather information about Hux for the Supreme Leader.”

“On Kylo Ren’s orders?” 

“Yeah.”

“Don’t know why the Leader wouldn’t just ask Hux himself,” Lieutenant Kovak says. He sits on Forstner’s side, somewhat leaning against her, but keeping his distance too. He was still nervous to lay a hand on her; Mitaka should know, since Kovak had been comming him about her for the past two months. It had gotten to the point where Mitaka had sat with him at Melinda’s, one of the officers’ clubs, and asked him to spill. And Kovak sure as hell spilled. 

“We all know he’d do just about anything for him,” Kovak continues. “Tell him all his fears, all his past loves.” He winks at Mitaka when he says this. “The last place he got his cock sucked.”

Mitaka is just about to retort when Forstner beats him to it.

“Better watch your mouth in front of the Imperial ladies,” Forstner retorts huffily. “So improper to speak of such things.” She turns her nose up at him. 

The effect is immediately lost when she starts to cackle at his dumbstruck face. 

“You always fucking fall for that, baby, you know I’m not one of those good Imperials.” Forstner tosses her head, her loose hair with it.

Kovak smacks her with his datapad. It only makes her laugh harder. 

It’s late in the day, after all of the lieutenants remaining on the _Finalizer_ had finished their duties, and Mitaka was able to get most of them to his quarters for their new informal mission. Mirava had protested after Mitaka confirmed that Ren was only doing this because of Hux’s Life Day, but Mitaka had convinced her. 

“Yeah, if you were a good Imperial girl, you wouldn’t be here at all, torturing me.” 

Mitaka glances up from his datapad, then looks swiftly down. 

“If I was a good Imperial girl, I would be married to some officer twenty years older than me and expected to birth an entire generation of officers.” She scoffs. “Oh, excuse me, I meant male officers.”

“I don’t know why Rae Sloane hasn’t dealt with that mentality yet,” Mirava says. “On principle, it’s shitty, but in application, it’s just fucking stupid. That’s half the populace, potentially out of the military. Idiotic.”

“Thought that’s why Verver got his belly cut open. Tried to push that bullshit through High Command.” 

“Still have thirty credits that Rae Sloane did it herself.”

“She’s ancient, Kovak, she definitely hired someone to do it.”

“Can we stay on topic, please?” Mitaka asks. He has been reading the same paragraph for five minutes now. “Move on from the good Imperial girls?”

Forstner gets a glint in her eye. “Oh, but that’s exactly why we need to talk about it. Isn’t it right, Mitaka? I had wondered why Parnew wasn’t here.”

“You know that wasn’t why,” Mitaka says, uncomfortable. He can feel himself flush. “She’s busy now anyway, with her dance.”

“Funny how you’ve memorized her schedule, Mika,” Mirava says, smirking. 

“I haven’t! I just have a good memory!”

“A good memory! Is that what they call it now?” Kovak asks.

Mitaka sputters, trying to defend himself. It only makes the room laugh. 

Kovak slaps a hand on his shoulder. “You know we’re only messing with you. I’ve got most of your schedules memorized, too.”

“Oh, boo, Kovi,” Forstner says with a pout. “Taking all the fun out of the room.”

“I think the poor thing’s been teased enough,” Kovak says. He picks his pad back up. “But seriously, Mitaka, are you going to do anything or just pine for the rest of your life?”

Mitaka goes quiet. He worries the pad between his gloved hands. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what I know is that Parnew runs with the wrong crowd for us, Taka,” says Forstner.

“Maybe not for you,” Mirava retorts. 

Forstner raises an eyebrow. “Me? Oh, they hate me, too. I turned my nose up at them in the Academy, and they don’t forget or forgive.” She shrugs. “At that point, I already knew that wasn’t for me. This isn’t the Empire anymore. I don’t have to be forced into that life.” 

“They didn’t choose that life either, if they’re officers now,” Mirava says. 

Forstner scoffs. “Like hell. They’ll do the minimum five years and be gone. They’re only doing it now because the senior officers like a girl who knows the military. Not like in the Empire when we were expected to know bantha shit.” 

“Was it really like that?” Kovak asks. “I mean, my dad’s an Imperial, but he never talked about this.”

“Both of my parents are extreme Imperials. Like so extreme they almost disowned me for associating with Hux. It was like that, and it's still like that.” Forstner huffs a bitter laugh. “They would if they realized the company I kept. But that’s not what Rae Sloane wants for the Order. She’s trying to fix the Empire’s failures. I’ll drink to her every damn day for what she’s done.” 

“Not to distract from the conversation,” Mitaka says, not wanting to distract at all. Conversations like this were always illuminating and cathartic. “But does anyone have any pictures of Arkanis? I don’t want anyone sniffing around my pad, wondering why I’m looking up Arkanis on the net for any reason.” 

“I’ve got some here,” Mirava says. “Just sent them.”

Mitaka’s pad dings. He opens the pictures and is immediately greeted by pictures of pastoral, rain soaked scenes. The ocean, with the ever-present rain. Native flora and fauna, the great cats of Arkanis. And then, finally, the Arkanis Academy, where Hux was born and lived for the first five years of his life, if Mitaka can trust Hux’s file. 

He swipes the pictures over to a folder containing all of Hux’s information, appropriately titled ‘Hux, To Supreme Leader, For Unknown’ though it should read ‘Hux, To Kylo Ren, For Life Day’. Mitaka doesn’t think Ren would appreciate being mocked by the bureaucracy. He and Hux are alike in that regard. 

“But I could never figure out what was going on with Parnew,” Kovak says. “What side she’s on in this whole mess.”

“She isn’t like me, that’s for sure,” says Forstner.

“No one’s like you, Cecylia.”

Forstner smirks. “I know, Kovi. But seriously, I should know. I was at the Academy for them, you know, the private Academy for the children of Imperial senior officers.”

“Yeah, and you protested a lot,” mutters Mirava. 

“You know I would have gone to the regular Academy with the rest of you if I could,” Forstner bites. She waves a hand. “I was thirteen, Mirava, like I was going to raise hell any time soon.” 

Mirava only raises an eyebrow. 

She and Mitaka had raised a lot of hell by the time they were thirteen. Mitaka wants to echo her sentiments, but doesn’t want to take Mirava’s irritation and run with it either.

Kovak coughs. “I think we can guess what that Academy was like.”

“Yeah,” Forstner mutters. “Bunch of elitist bitches.” 

“Watch it,” Mirava says by instinct.

“Sorry,” Forstner says and she does appear so. “That was unnecessary. But they were unkind. Worse than unkind.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I know they call you guys dogs and mutts because of who you’re related to, but I’ve never seen a fiercer pack of wolves than at that Academy. And none was fiercer and more cutthroat than the crowd Parnew ran with. I know she looks soft and sweet and gentle, but underneath that…I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe you don’t know her well enough,” Mitaka says. “Maybe if we invited her to more things—”

“How are we supposed to do that, with her ‘friends’ watching her every move?” Kovak says. “Listen, I agree with Mitaka here. I’ve seen how Parnew is down in communications. She is civil, cordial, but not with that elitist aura you can see around some of their crowd. And she chose to accept Hux’s invitation as a personal lieutenant.” 

“But who the hell would refuse that?” Mirava retorts. They have all abandoned their datapads at this point. So be it; this is far more interesting to Mitaka. Ren has enough personal information at this point. “I remember when Mitaka and I got our offers. We were ecstatic! I mean, we would have both vanished in the officers’ corps were it not for Hux. Only an idiot would want to refuse that.”

“My parents always were idiots,” mutters Forstner. 

“Ignoring your idiot parents,” Mitaka says. “Kovak does have a point. She agreed to work with Hux. He may put on that Imperial front, but he doesn’t have the pedigree her family would want. Right, Forstner?” 

Forstner sighs. “I suppose.” Mitaka brightens. “But after Hux’s promotion to general, when we were still at the Academy, there was a lot of gossip about whose family would snag him. His father would’ve wanted that, they all said. Would get rid of all that bad blood.”

“His father’s dead,” says Mirava bluntly. “And does Hux look like the marrying type?”

Forstner snorts. “Hell no. He’d only be if you could marry the _Finalizer_ herself. Or maybe our extra super-secret base, so secret we can’t even refer to it by her name.”

“It’s a lovely name,” Kovak says. “Illuminating. Poignant.”

“A bit like a punch to the gut, in my opinion,” Mirava says. 

But Mitaka isn’t listening. He’s still thinking about Cassini. 

He doesn’t think she’d be like that. Not based on what he’s seen. 

But if she was? Somehow, if she was? 

Well, that’d be the end to all that, wouldn’t it? 

Mitaka scratches his neck, right where the high collar of his uniform ends. He snags the metal chain holding his dog tags and rubs them between his fingers, lost in thought. Mirava notices this familiar ministration, but doesn’t say a word. She only reaches over and takes Mitaka’s other hand and wraps their two pinkies together. She squeezes. 

\--

Mitaka had been truthful when he told Kylo Ren he would ask around the ship, not just Hux’s personal lieutenants. And though that took a lot of effort, especially with being let back into the kitchens to “just talk, I promise I won’t steal anything this time!” and to track down Hux’s chief engineer, who immediately laughed upon seeing Mitaka’s irate face as they both remembered it was she who sent Mitaka to his incident with Ren and Hux.

Mitaka had been perfectly polite and subordinate, but inside he was quietly seething. 

Now, it’s only three days before Hux is coming back. And Mitaka has finally summoned enough courage to comm Kylo Ren the details of their meeting. 

He’s taking a vacation day for this. Mitaka wants to bring this up to Ren, but thinks it won’t get him anything good. 

“Why are you meeting with Ren in person rather than just sending him the message?” Mirava asks. She’s sitting atop his fresher counter. Now that Mitaka survived his first one-on-one encounter with Ren, she isn’t worried anymore. Now, she’s just annoyed that Mitaka would seek out another one.

“I just thought it’d be better to answer questions in person rather than over comm,” Mitaka says, adjusting his hat in the mirror. “And I always need an excuse to get caf.”

“You’re already shaking.”

She’s right. 

He shrugs. “It’s just one of those days. Why are you in my quarters anyway?”

Mirava had let herself in this morning and almost scared Mitaka into a scream after he walked out the fresher and saw her sitting on his bed, reading a datapad. 

“I figured out how to deal with the Dahlia problem,” she says. Mitaka’s eyes widen. He had completely forgotten about Dahlia. “What you need to do is an exchange. You give Ren all the info on Hux, he asks Hux for the autographs. They’re already dating, so it won’t be weird.” 

“I suppose,” Mitaka says. He frowns. “But how would I ask that? Without being accused of insubordination or, you know…”

“Being choked?”

He nods. 

“Just work it into the conversation. But it would have been easier if you had just sent him your demands over the comm system, but no, you had to schedule a meeting with the guy. Is he incapable of reading a document? He can read, right?”

“Yes, of course he can read,” Mitaka says, attention now to tucking his data pad into a pocket and checking his uniform for errors one last time. “Besides,” he says before Mirava can interrupt him. “I got the impression that he’s lonely, you know? When I talked to him? And I get it, like I know I had you at the Academy, but the weeks I was gone in the field were terrible.” 

“Loneliness? Kylo Ren’s lonely?” 

Mitaka nods. “Yeah. He’s lonely. He needs this Hux info. And I want caf. And those autographs. It’s a win-win situation.” He looks towards Mirava, smiling at his thinking.

She isn’t smiling back.

“What?” he asks. He glances in the mirror, but his hat isn’t crooked or anything.

“It still amazes me the things High Command wanted you to do. Or even that you’re an officer and not a fucking daisy in a pot somewhere. Stop being nice. He threw a shoe at you.”

“You threw a shoe at me once!” Mitaka says, laughing. 

“I was thirteen when I did that!” Mirava just about shouts. She jumps down from the counter. “Mother above, just don’t fucking die today, all right? Mom would kill me, then you too to make it right!”

Mitaka can’t help but laugh. He hugs her and lets go before she can jab an fist into his gut. “I’ll see you later, Nari!” 

“Get fucked, Doe!” is the last thing Mitaka hears before he leaves his quarters. 

It takes him longer than expected to get to the caf shop, on account of there being an impromptu toe stand contest between some petty officers he had to watch, but Mitaka thankfully makes it to the shop on time. Already a line has built up for the to-go option. Mitaka counts his stars that he won’t have to wait in that line. 

He cuts through the to-go line with multiple apologies and crosses into the dim-lit, smoke filled caf lounge that contains comfortable chairs and low tables. Already there’s a senior officer enjoying her morning alone and a group of stormtroopers tucked away into a corner, obviously back from some mission if their lack of armor means anything. Mitaka doesn’t see Ren’s helmeted form anywhere. 

But then he turns the corner, into the back of the caf shop where all the cig smoke drifts to. Usually it’s almost completely empty, except for the chain-smokers, but Mitaka sees Ren stiffly sitting there on a black couch in his usual attire, minus lightsaber. His helmet is off already and set upon the low table in front of him, along with many ceramic ashtrays. It’s disconcerting to see Ren here in his usual clothing; Mitaka thought he’d at least wear his commander uniform or something. But no; Ren exists here, too, in this caf shop.

Ren isn’t alone though. Surrounding him are multiple BB-9E units, probably the entirety of the caf shop’s supply. They beep at Ren almost aggressively, bumping against each other to answer Ren’s questions. 

Mitaka walks to Ren’s couch and wonders what the caf shop must have been like when Kylo Ren himself strode through. He’s just about to announce his arrival when he’s interrupted by Ren’s next question to the droids. 

“So all you do is bring caf orders to the front?”

“That’s not all they do, sir,” Mitaka says, speaking over the droids’ frantic beeps. “They’re also programmed to be companion droids.” Mitaka salutes. “Commander.” 

“Er, at ease.” Mitaka drops his hand. His serious stance is compromised by one of the BB-9E droids now bumping against his leg and beeping at him. “I had no idea the First Order had these kinds of droids,” Ren says next. 

Mitaka nods. “They’re a recent addition to the ship. Before they were used as pilot assistant droids, before the TIEs were reimplemented.”

Ren gets an odd look in his eyes. “I know,” he simply says. 

There’s quiet before Mitaka prompts him. “May I sit, sir?”

Ren blinks, looks up from the droids. “Sorry, yes, sit.” He waves a hand. 

Mitaka sits. After glancing over his shoulder to make sure they’re properly hidden from the rest of the room, he begins. “I’ve talked to all the lieutenants,” Mitaka whispers. “And to some of the General’s friends aboard the ship.” Except Phasma. She scares him.

“Why are you whispering?” Ren asks. 

Mitaka blinks. “Because…there are people here?” he says, though it’s more like a question. A question he feels like he’s going to get wrong. 

“Don’t worry. They can’t hear us. They can’t even see us anymore.” An odd approximation of a smile crosses his face. “I’ve made it so they can’t.”

The droids are oddly silent. They look back and forth between Ren and Mitaka. Obviously, this is just a game for them. 

That anxiety Mitaka felt this morning feels a lot more prevalent now. “Um, thanks.”

“Of course,” Ren says. Then, “Do you have a datapad I could borrow? I forgot mine.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mitaka says. He rummages for his datapad and switches it on, opens the correct document and passes it to Ren. “Here, take a look.”

Ren thanks him and starts reading. Mitaka sits there for a while, listening to the droids’ whirring and tracing the patterns of their black and red painted bodies. 

Mitaka doesn’t stay quiet long. It’s like he has to say something. 

“Does any of that help?”

Ren glances up, scowling. “Let me get through it all first,” he says. 

Mitaka nods, shrinks a bit further into himself. He sits there quietly, staring at the wall and willing his heart to slow down, when one of the BB-9E droids quietly beeps a question at him. 

“Oh, do I want any caf?” Mitaka says. “Sure, hang on.” He digs around his pocket for his ration card. The droid opens one of its internal compartments, and Mitaka places it inside. “Can you get me a caramel brulée latte, extra whipped cream, please?”

The droid beeps an affirmative and rolls away. 

There’s silence. Mitaka returns to staring at the wall. He resists bouncing his leg or taking out a datapad stylus and twirling it between his fingers. He’s motionless, waiting as Ren finishes reading his report. 

“How can you drink that?” Ren suddenly asks. It makes Mitaka jump.

“Sorry, sir?”

Ren waves a hand. “First of all, drop the sirs. At ease, stand down, permission to speak freely, whatever. How can you drink something like that?”

“It’s just caf,” Mitaka says defensively. The BB-9E units, sensing conflict, casually roll away, though the effect is lost when they clunk against the walls, tables and chairs in their haste. 

“If that’s caf, then I’m Hux,” Ren says humorously. He shakes his head, turns back to the pad. “I tried drinking shit like that on a mission once. Got me so jittery the lights started flickering.” 

“Wouldn’t that just be the caffeine?” 

Ren shakes his head. “No, unfortunately. It’s any excess. Sugar. Caffeine. Spice. Makes the Force revolt, recoil. A loss of control like that…wouldn’t be ideal.”

Ren finishes the document soon after Mitaka receives his sugared, caffeinated monstrosity, contained within a chipped white mug with the First Order symbol printed in a harsh red on the side. Even when the BB-9E droid tells him it cost him two sugar rations, Mitaka doesn’t care. He picks his feet off the floor and curls into the plush chair, daydreaming as the hot caf warms his hands. His thoughts are about to drift towards Cassini and sharing a drink with her here when Ren bursts that bubble.

“You all know a lot about Hux,” Ren says. He’s still staring at the datapad. “A lot. But it doesn’t answer what I should do.”

Mitaka needs to voice this next sentence carefully. He wishes Mirava were here. She always had better intuition than him in situations like this. “I thought you’d get an idea from what you saw. I told you before; I don’t know if Hux celebrates Life Day. I don’t either.” 

“Why not?” Ren asks. He’s looked up from the datapad to stare at Mitaka. The focus of his gaze is unnerving. 

“Well,” Mitaka begins. He doesn’t know if Ren is reading his mind. He doesn’t know if he can from this far away or if there needs to be a mental or emotional connection. The Force is a strange concept that Mitaka doesn’t entirely understand, with regards to Ren. “I don’t celebrate Life Day. I celebrate a different day for my…life. It’s, um, not exactly Imperial.” Mitaka barely hides a wince after saying that last sentence, but presses on. “It celebrates when you mature instead. When you join the…clan, I suppose. For real.”

Ren doesn’t criticize him for referring to his non-Imperial heritage. Instead, he hums. His attention is back to the pad. “I can understand that,” he says. “There were many cultures I found in my travels that didn’t celebrate Life Day like I did. It’s…fascinating. How many cultures exist in one galaxy.” Then, in a complete non-sequitur, Ren holds up Mitaka’s datapad and asks, “Who’s this?” 

On the screen is Dahlia. It’s her most recent holo, the one she sent to the entire family, in cadet uniform but with her dark brown hair loose and wavy around her shoulders. Mitaka remembers when he received that photo; even at the Academy, suffering in her studies, Dahlia looked better than he ever did. Or did at that moment when he received that holo, as Mitaka was running on little sleep thanks to a particularly busy week for Hux.

“That’s my sister,” Mitaka says. He grips the caf mug tighter. “She’s at the Academy.” He points at the background scenery, which shows blocky grey structures surrounded by green grass. “That’s the library behind her. She likes to study outside, with her friends.” 

Mitaka has no idea why he’s rambling like this. Probably the caffeine. Maybe he and Ren are more alike than he thought. 

Ren turns the datapad back towards him. “What’s her name?” he asks nonchalantly. 

“Why do you want to know?” Mitaka demands. 

Ren blinks at him, confused. “I’m just making conversation.” He tilts his head. “It’s not a problem, right?” 

“First names are personal. For Imperials.” 

“Well, you’re not an Imperial, aren’t you?” 

The question cuts into Mitaka like a knife. He looks into his caf mug, at the pale brown swirling within it. His hands are shaking again; from anxiety or anger he doesn’t know. 

“Oh.” 

Mitaka can feel his cheeks burning. 

“I used to tell Hux that his officers were all copies of himself. I know that’s not true now, but in some areas, you’re exactly the same. I’m sorry.”

That makes Mitaka look back up. He’s sincere? “Really?” he voices. 

“I’m not Imperial either, if that makes you feel better.”

“I think we all knew that. But thanks.” He reaches for the datapad. Ren passes it to him. He coughs. “Here, I’m sure you’re curious about the Academy, right? Has Hux talked to you about it?” 

“Getting Hux to talk about personal things is like getting a bantha to move its fat ass.”

Mitaka is shocked into a laugh. “I’ve never heard that before, but I like it.”

Ren smiles oddly again. “But what was the Academy like?”

Thus begins a talk that has to last for a long time, if even the BB-9E droids come back, lose interest and roll away to beep at the other patrons. Mitaka finishes his caf, but doesn’t order another one. For one, he can’t stop running his mouth. He also thinks he’s out of sugar rations for the week. Ren orders some kind of non-caffeinated tea, but wrinkles his nose after drinking it. They leave talks of the Academy, and Ren was particularly disturbed by some of Mitaka’s stories, to some of Ren’s declassified missions and then back to brainstorming the perfect Life Day celebration for Hux. 

Mitaka is just about to leave the corner of the shop when he pauses. He turns back to Ren, who’s still reading Hux’s document on his datapad with a furrowed brow. 

“Her name’s Dahlia, by the way.”

Ren blinks. He looks up. “Sorry?”

“My youngest sister. Her name’s Dahlia. She’s in the engineering track.” Mitaka pauses, before continuing. “And I have a favor to ask, about her.” 

\--


	3. Chapter 3

\--

He convinced him. 

Ren, after laughing for a good minute, had agreed to getting Hux’s name on those holos. He had begged Mitaka to tell him that Hux didn’t know about his fan club, and when Mitaka confirmed it, Ren looked ecstatic. 

“Fuck, I can’t wait to tell him myself. He’s going to get so red in the face, fucking hell, Mitaka, thank you.” 

“I think I should be thanking you. My sister basically threatened me to get these.”

“A good way to get things done, in my opinion.” 

So Mitaka was off to the holodecks. He hadn’t been in forever; his knife form was probably atrocious. His mother would be horrified. And Mitaka is too, considering he has to initiate Dahlia during her Academy break. He has to put on a good show for the Matriarch, like his mother did for him and for Nari. 

Dahlia will be so nervous, but so excited too. Mitaka remembers how excited and nervous he was, when he was fifteen. Dahlia will be sixteen, but Mitaka thinks that extra year has done wonders for her form and confidence. 

Mitaka is turning the corner to the corridor containing the junior officers’ quarters when someone drives a forearm into his throat and shoves him into the wall with a dull thud. Instinctively, he reaches for a knife, but of course, in this uniform, there’s no knife on either hip. He struggles, pulling against the arm, but whoever it is won’t budge. He has the briefest thought to break their arm, break their kneecaps, but resists. If he does that, not even Hux would be able to hide it. 

“I don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re playing at,” Lieutenant Rhet hisses in his ear. Gone is the refined Imperial woman she’s expected to be. “But stop. Do you understand me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mitaka chokes out. It’s getting hard to breathe. He glances down, at Rhet’s stance, can see himself taking her down with one sweeping kick, but stops himself. He retreats further into the wall to open his throat. 

“Don’t be stupid, _dog_ , I’m talking about Parnew. If I hear that you’ve talked to her, looked at her, even thought about her in any way that isn’t befitting your fucking blood, I’ll get you sent to reconditioning. Don’t think Hux can keep you from there. I have better connections than Hux could fucking _dream_ of. I know more about you than you think, _Dopheld_ , so don’t try anything.” She shoves against his throat again, makes him whine. “Stupid bitch.” 

Just as quickly as Rhet appears, she’s gone. 

Mitaka stays against the wall. Panting. He clenches his hands, shaking, into fists. Pounds them against the wall. Just once. 

\--

The rock is hot against Mitaka’s stomach, even through his loose-fitting workout clothes, which he doesn’t remember changing into, but must have. The same with his knives, which he remembers taking out of his workout bag after he activated the simulation, but doesn’t remember taking out of the compartment in his quarters’ walls. They’re still impaled in the practice dummy Mitaka stole from one of the stormtrooper training rooms. The codes for it, he means. It's meant for blaster bolt testing, which makes it resilient against those weapons, but lackluster against pure durasteel blades. And the best part is that the dummy is self-regenerating. Some kind of nanotech, Mitaka’s heard. So he can practice whatever attack and trust that the arm will grow back or the stomach will sew shut again. 

Just as he programmed, birdsong echoes through the sim. Mitaka keeps his eyes closed and his legs and arms pulled close and sinks further into the sim. 

Mitaka first had the idea to program a simulation chip like this in the Academy, when he was learning the basics of code for use in weapons. How to decrease response time, increase weapon effectiveness by creating shortcuts in the star destroyer’s or TIE fighter’s electronic brain. All mechanical. 

The idea first came to him in one of those classes, while he was staring out the one window that Academy room had and watching other cadets drill outside in the sun or rain or snow. And wishing he was there as they crawled through the muck. 

False wind blows, always from west to east, rustling the tall tan grasses as tall as Mitaka’s thighs in some places. It crunches with every step. No one can be completely quiet in this place, though Mitaka thinks he comes close. Even while shaking, with fear or anger or some overload of emotion, he had been almost completely silent as he walked from the dummy through the grasses to this large, flat rock, directly in view of an eternally setting sun, with all its vibrant oranges and yellows and pinks, to lie down, close his eyes and center himself. 

Mitaka opens his eyes. If he were to look down, he would see a sheer cliff face, the beginning of a canyon that cuts through half the simulation. Deep in the bottom, there’s the first sign of green. Trees that look tiny but that Mitaka knows are giant, with branches that cover the forest floor in perpetual shadow, even during the day. Their trunks are so thick that no one person can wrap their arms around them. Stained a deep chestnut red. Smells like ketchup when split apart, oddly, but Mitaka thinks that’s just a story his mother made up as a joke. The smaller vegetation, stunted by the giant trees stealing all the sun, huddle in sunlit clusters like girls and boys at an Academy function, being forced to intermingle and ‘get to know each other’. 

Mitaka snorts at those memories. He had been to most of them, except when he was gone in field training with all the other people who maybe had that quality the First Order was looking for. 

Mitaka was back at the Academy after two months, shaking and starved. 

His legs and arms are cramping. Mitaka stretches with a groan, rolls onto his back with his face towards the false blue sky, both arms above his head and dangling over the cliff edge. His hair hangs loose around his face having long since sweated out the product. Mitaka likes it better this way: either like this or slicked back with his hat on. 

Mitaka lies there, soaking up the sun's heat on his chest and stomach, being warmed by the rock on his back. He’s close to drowsing off, having completely forgotten about the problems that exist outside this simulation, when he hears someone say, “Damn, what the hell did that dummy ever do to you?”

Mitaka opens an eye and looks up to see Mirava standing on the rock next to him. She shields her eyes with one hand and stares at the dummy, close to the one tree that Mitaka programmed to grow on this plateau. A gnarled, bitter old tree that serves only for Mitaka to rest his back against when he's tired from his knife forms. Standing in her grey First Order uniform, she looks like an intrusion on this place, like an alien from a distant civilization that stumbled upon this land of reds and tans and greens but never greys. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve gone all out like that.” She glances down. “Any reason?”

Mitaka knows this game. Mirava knows something’s bothering him, knows by every knife gash on the dummy. Probably knows because Mitaka isn’t one to spend hours in here when he’s in a good mood. And it has been hours; even with the setting sun fucking with him, Mitaka knows it’s been hours since he first entered. For one, the sweat from his knife work is gone. And the burning in his entire body has settled into a subdued warmth that makes him sleepy. Makes even a flat rock feel like a plush bed. 

“You don’t have to constantly look out for me,” Mitaka simply says.

“So something did happen.”

“But it’s nothing you need to worry about. I can handle it myself.”

“I’m not saying you can’t,” Mirava says as she takes a seat upon the rock. “All I’m saying is I’m here for you, since you were here for me.”

Mitaka frowns. “When was that?” 

She gives a small smile. “When haven’t you been there? But specifically? The caf shop. When I was a bit…irritable.” Mirava small smile turns embarrassed. 

Mitaka shrugs. “Was no problem.” He scoffs. “Though I should’ve let you go for her throat.”

“So it’s about Rhet?” Mirava says. A familiar fire engulfs her eyes. “What the hell did she say? Did she do anything to you?”

Mitaka slowly pushes himself up into a seated position facing Mirava. He sighs. “Nari,” he says, quietly. “Is it stupid of me to even think about Parnew?”

“What’s this got to do with Parnew?” Mirava asks. Not even her sense of intuition can help her here. “Was she with Rhet or something?”

Mitaka shakes his head. “No, no, it was just Rhet.” 

In lieu of anything else, Mitaka just tells Mirava everything that happened, from his joy at getting those autographs signed for Dahlia to Rhet leaving him with that word cutting into his skin. 

When Mitaka is done, Mirava is very quiet. She’s staring down the sheer cliff, at the green canyon below. When she speaks, her voice is very soft. 

“She said that? Those exact words?” 

“Yes.” 

Mirava’s expression reminds Mitaka so much of their mother right now it’s jarring. It’s the face she gets every time someone has the audacity to disrespect anyone in their family. But that look soon turns to a familiar expression for Mirava: contemplation, her drawing conclusions from the barest of signs. 

“The reconditioning threat is empty, so no need to worry about that. She may be aware of our professional relationship with Hux, but that doesn’t help her either. She can bemoan to her father all she wants about how we’re a stain on the First Order, but we’ve skills the Order needs. Coding. Navigation.”

“You know she didn’t threaten you, right?” Mitaka asks with his first smile in a while.

Mirava raises an eyebrow. “Someone threatens you, they threaten me. We’re basically twins, Mitaka.”

“I’m a month older than you.”

“Need a fucking medal, idiot? Shut up.” 

Mitaka snorts. 

“Anyway, back to Rhet and her ugly ass face. It’s funny that she says she has better connections than fucking Hux. Hux may have the personality of a rock, but he’s got connections Rhet could only dream of. If she thinks she can get him to stand down with the sheer force of her Imperial blood, she’s an idiot.

“And the part about her knowing more about you than you think…that’s complete fucking bluffing; we know how to cover our tracks. And Mom and Aunt Niabi have been doing their part in keeping our planet and past secret. I wouldn’t worry.”

Mirava furrows her brows. “But what I don’t get is why she took the time to find you and throw you against a wall, just to threaten you about Parnew. Is she that obsessed with the status quo, the old Empire? Because I hate to say it, but ever since Rae Sloane crawled off that desert hell planet, the Empire’s ways were fading fast.”

“Could be she’s just another Imperial girl who wants to exert power somewhere. You know they don’t have it in their families, in the true Imperial ones.” 

And that’s true. Mitaka’s seen it, both at the Academy and as a junior officer. Wherever there is power deprived there is power sought. And for the daughters of the Admirals, of the Generals, from those who were senior officers in the Imperial military, there was much power to be sought.

Mirava nods. “Could be. Rhet does love her power. Loves being a tyrant over her friends, keeping them in line." She furrows her brows even further. "Keeping them from…from branching out, from breaking the status quo. Not because they’re being forced, no, the tone would have been different then. But because they want to, because…” 

Mirava’s eyes widen. Her hands fly to her mouth.

Then, she begins to laugh. So hard that tears collect in her eyes. Her hands drop from her mouth to rest in her lap. She’s hunched over with the force of her laughter. 

Mitaka’s getting concerned now. He reaches over and shakes her shoulder. “Mira? What’re you talking about?” 

“Oh, you fucking dumbass, Dopheld, she likes you! I don’t know if it’s the way you do, but she does!”

Whatever’s on Mitaka’s face only makes Mirava laugh harder.

“Only you would find out a girl wants to talk to you by being body checked against a wall. Fuck, I love you so much.” Mirava wipes a tear from her eye. She taps Mitaka under his chin with two fingers. “Chin up, Doe! This is great news!” 

At first, Mitaka can’t believe what Mirava’s saying. 

But then, it starts to make sense. Why someone so Imperial would associate with someone who isn’t Imperial at all. And all because of one memory Mitaka has, where he saw Cassini Parnew do something so rarely seen in the First Order. Among Imperials at all. 

It was late. Mitaka had just finished a session in the sim, and his arms and legs were tired. All he wanted to do was slip into the kitchens, grab a snack and head back to his quarters to sleep. It had been a terrible week: Hux had been berated by Snoke and was snarling at any lieutenant who tried to bring it up. Not even Forstner, so tact and careful among those wild masculine emotions, had luck in calming him. Hux’s mood had a trickle-down effect; the officers were quieter, non-coms deadly silent. Even the ship herself seemed to shrink into herself at Hux’s rage. 

Mitaka had dealt a great deal of damage onto the dummy at the end of the week. And even that didn’t seem to help his tension. 

But then he heard a voice, quiet and gentle, from just around the corner, saying, “It’ll be all right. I promise you’ll be all right.” There were sounds of muffled sobbing before whoever it was repeated, “Here, breathe with me. Put your hand on my stomach.” 

Mitaka turned the corner, curious now, and saw Lieutenant Cassini Parnew, still in her grey First Order uniform, one hand on the face of a shuddering stormtrooper, dressed in his blacks with no armor in sight. The other hand was holding the stormtrooper’s and was on her stomach. 

Together, they breathed. Inhale, exhale, till the stormtrooper grew silent, now only tears going down his face. Parnew kept stroking his face, shushing him in a way Mitaka knew she wasn’t familiar with. Shushing with comfort rather than for silence or control. In the non-Imperial way, his mother might say, but Mitaka had seen it before among the Imperials. But not in a long time and never in such a public place as a ship’s hallway. 

Mitaka doesn’t know how long they stood there. After a while, the stormtrooper nodded and smiled at Parnew. He whispered something to her, something Mitaka couldn’t hear, and then he was gone. Parnew left not too long after. 

And Mitaka was left there, amazed by what he saw. Kindness. Something so innocent and objectively good. He hadn’t seen it in such a long time, not among the real Imperials. That’s what made it so jarring. And what made her so beautiful to him. 

Oh, Mitaka had known she was beautiful since he first met her, when they had their first lieutenants meeting with Hux almost a year ago. 

But it was only then that Mitaka noticed the beauty she had within her, the radiance she carried, even with her parents and those Imperials telling her to do otherwise. Bravery, in rebellion. That was the greatest thing a person could hold. Rebellion.

The Matriarch would agree. 

Mitaka is reminded of a memory from when he was fourteen, on his way to being initiated and being trained hard by his mother. Her sister had not gone easy on her; she would not go easy on her eldest child. His technique was put through the greatest tests as she slashed and kicked at him. 

But in the middle of one of their sessions, held in secret aboard the star destroyer Mitaka was born on, the Matriarch had entered the room. Old, very old, but still with the power she needed to lead them. 

Mitaka and his mother had both kneeled before her. Then, the Matriarch motioned to Mitaka. “Dopheld,” she had said in their language. “I must speak with you. Come with me.” 

What followed was a conversation about his training: how the weapons felt in his hands, if Mitaka wanted to switch specialization before initiation. He had said no; he loved the knives. 

What the Matriarch said next would revolutionize his life in the First Order. 

“Deerling,” she had said as she took his hands. She took them over to a bench set into the wall and sat down, she with some effort, but with regality too. Mitaka thought it due to the uniform she dared to wear in front of the Imperials, who sneered at any sign of cultural rebellion. “There’s something important you need to know.” 

What followed was the most illuminating conversation Mitaka’s had with his great-grandmother, but what ended it was the most important. 

“Never doubt the power of kindness, Dopheld,” the Matriarch had said. 

Mitaka had rolled his eyes then. “I know; Aunt Niabi’s told me everything. How it can influence people, get them to do what I want or need. I already know how to kiss ass.” 

Mitaka had been surly and disrespectful then, but the Matriarch was patient. She smiled, though it looked sad, too. “Your aunt was born for a different time. Listen to her, yes, but question where it comes from. Niabi was hardened by many things before you were born.”

“What things?”

She squeezed his hands. “That’s for Niabi to tell. And don’t pretend like you’re a cynic now. I saw you as a child, with Nari, and I know that child is still within you. Kindness is who you are. It’s who many people are.”

Mitaka scoffed. “Many people? That doesn’t include the Imperials then. Never met a nice Imperial. All of them are poisoned.” 

“Poisoned?” The Matriarch had laughed. “Better not tell that to Nari! She’s Imperial too, even if she’s part of us now.” Mitaka had tried to speak, but the Matriarch held up a hand. Not even he was disrespectful enough then to talk over her. “Remember these words now, Dopheld. Kindness is radiance. Like the energy of a sun. And like a sun, there are some that are burned out. You can never restart them, but you can warm them with your own light. There are some who are still forming, and you can encourage them along. And then there are those that are so radiant, so powerful, that they outshine all of us.” She cupped his face, in her weathered, calloused, battle-worn hands. “When you find these people, never let them go. You’ve already found one, in Nari.” She drew him close then, with a hand against the back of his head, pressed her lips upon his brow, and said, “I pray you find another and that someone finds you, too.” 

Cassini Parnew outshone the entire ship, in that one selfless moment in a week of misery and anger. Mitaka had basked in that light once and wished to again, as a friend or something more, either would be welcome. 

She is selfless. She is radiant. She is like a shining sun. 

She is more than her last name. 

Mitaka suddenly feels like he can float off this rock and fly over the canyon. He’s playful through the intense emotions within him when he says, “Great news? Tell that to my neck. Still feels a bit bruised.”

Mirava shoves him so hard he almost tumbles off the rock, but he’s laughing through the happy tears in his eyes. “Oh, boo fucking hoo, Mitaka, I saw you after you got stabbed, and you were fucking fine.” 

“First of all, it was like a two-inch shiv and second, I couldn’t fucking breathe with Rhet’s arm choking me out. I’d take being lightly pricked to not breathing.” 

“Lightly pricked, is that what the Imperials call it these days?”

Mitaka grins, stands up. His arms and legs are painless. “I wouldn’t know.” He reaches down, grabs Mirava’s hand and pulls her up. “I’m just an Imperial mutt slobbering at the heels of the good Imperial girls. Aren’t I?”

“Aren’t we fucking all?” Mirava replies, grinning. She hugs him, swings him back and forth as they laugh. Then they sit down, giggling, and talk about whatever they want. Here, in the sim, they’re safe from the eyes and ears of the First Order. They talk about Mirava’s week, as Mitaka knows it’s been terrible of him not to ask. Mirava obliges and tells him the funniest story he’s heard in a while: of a situation in navigation between a TIE pilot, an asteroid and a bit too much to drink. It makes Mitaka laugh so hard he almost falls off the rock. Mirava catches him before he does so, laughing too. 

When they’re both tired and ready for bed, Mitaka and Mirava jump down from the rock, into the swishing tan tall grass that tickles at Mitaka’s legs. The setting sun casts their shadows far in front of them as they walk towards the gnarled tree and the torn-up dummy. Already it’s reforming itself, even though Mitaka’s knives are still stuck in its stomach. It takes a good yank to get them out.

As they keep walking, Mitaka twirls them in his hands. Mirava holds onto his bag and watches the blades dance through the air. Then, taking pity, Mitaka tosses her one, and she starts to twirl it, too. Though it’s arrogant to say, Mitaka’s still happy to say he can twirl faster and do more tricks than Mirava. He is one month older, after all. 

When they reach the door to the holodeck, after pushing through grass as tall as the two of them, they reach the black durasteel door, the only sign of the First Order in this place. Beside it is the control station, where Mitaka inserts the data chip to activate this personal sim. With a press of his fingerprint, Mitaka unlocks the console. He presses the button to release the chip, and it comes out. Just as it does, the entire sim vanishes. The grasses ticking his face, gone. The sounds of birds and false wind, gone. A setting sun, finally set. 

But even after the simulation is gone, the light, giddy emotions illuminated by the events on that sim planet are still dancing in Mitaka’s chest. It’s so powerful he can barely control the expression on his face, after they go back into the _Finalizer’s_ hallways. 

The feeling still remains even as Mitaka tries to go to sleep, even though his roommate is snoring his fucking ass off. It’s like being drunk, though without the nausea and with even more desire to be reckless. 

He thinks back to his conversation with Ren in the caf shop, which feels like it happened weeks ago. It’s uncomfortable to think of one’s superior officers in any sort of relationship, but Mitaka wonders if Ren and Hux ever felt this way before. This giddy airiness that makes one feel invincible. The realization that whatever barriers are between two people don’t matter. The power and radiance that comes with kindness. 

If they haven’t, then it’s a tragedy. 

Mitaka reaches down beside his bed and grabs his datapad. He’s about to do something either incredibly kind or incredibly stupid. With his luck and his shit intuition, it’s probably both. But he thinks he knows how to help Ren and Hux feel like this on Hux’s Life Day. It might reveal too much into some of Hux’s connections, but right now, at two in the fucking morning, Mitaka doesn’t feel any anxiety about it at all. 

He switches on the pad and reaches for his dog tags on his bedside table, where his personal information is kept on rectangular durasteel plates, but also where he keeps the sim chip, along with the small antler charm the Matriarch had presented him with at his initiation. He had designed the chip for this exact purpose, so that it worked with a hole punched in the middle. Mitaka takes it out, slides it into the chip reader on his pad and downloads it. Attaches it to a comm message. 

Then, he sends a message, addressed to Kylo Ren in the First Order, marked non-urgent because not even Mitaka can break protocol and flag it urgent, though Ren definitely thinks Hux’s Life Day is urgent. 

The message goes as followed:

_I think I have the answer to your problem. It’s attached to this message. All I ask is that you don’t ask me where this place is or how I know it. Or how Hux may know it. And all I want you to know is that this place is special to me, not because of how it looks or what it represents, but how it makes me feel._

_Dopheld Mitaka_

 _P.S. I know you know he likes strawberries, but he also likes azalea and aubrieta flowers. They grow on Arkanis in the rainy season. And they’re very beautiful._

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)
> 
> I made it so tender at the end lmao bet you weren't expecting this at the beginning of the fic!
> 
> Anyway, I'm gonna be posting a lot about this anthology verse on my tumblr (@lady-starkiller), so check me out there if you enjoyed these original characters and want to know more about them! :D 
> 
> And look forward to the future fic in this verse! The next one will be even longer than this, but I think I'll be able to write it faster now that I'm in the groove of things~*~
> 
> Thanks for reading!! :D


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